Romance in the Rain
by Alice Wright
Summary: The recently divorced Lestrade finds himself working on a case with Molly Hooper. MollyXLestrade.
1. Romance in the Rain

A short drabble based on a prompt given to me by white-tiger2200.

As always, I do not own BBC Sherlock. I wish I did, but I don't.

* * *

"God, she's gorgeous," Lestrade thought to himself as he watched Molly trail behind Sherlock. It was unusual to see the red-headed mortician on a case, especially this far out of town. But Sherlock had insisted that they needed someone to "properly handle the bodies". Anderson wasn't pleased, but then when was Anderson pleased about anything that had to do with Sherlock Holmes? As she made a quick note and twisted to catch up with Sherlock's flying deductions, Lestrade turned his head towards the sky, letting the cold rain hit his face. It was the best he could do out along the Thames during a case.

"Umm… Inspector Lestrade?" he heard. He opened his eyes to see none other than the woman herself standing before him, her pink umbrella extended over her head like an antennae.

"Hmm… yes, what? Greg. Call me, Greg," the inspector bumbled.

"Uh… Greg… Sherlock told me to tell you that we just about have everything," Molly said. She nibbled on her lip and looked down at the ground. "And… umm… I know this is a bit sudden, but, would you mind taking me home? Oh! God! I mean, to my home, not your home. I mean, of course not your home. That would be silly. Silly, silly, silly." She turned away, her cheeks starting to turn bright red.

Greg swallowed, hard. "Yeah," he said, once he'd finally managed to stamp down the billion raging thoughts of Molly Hooper coming over to his almost unbearably empty flat. "I can do that. We can… uhh… share a cab." He rubbed the back of his head, mentally kicking himself for not coming up with something smoother. "Share a cab, you fucking sod, what the fuck are you thinking?" he thought to himself. "You should have said something like… something like…"

"Actually, you know what? I'm really hungry," Molly said hurriedly. "Do you think… I mean, I don't think you had any dinner either…"

"And I know this great Chinese place," Lestrade chipped in, glad to finally have something to say. "It's by Baker Street. Do you live around there?"

"Not really," Molly admitted. "But Chinese food sounds great."

"Great! I'll get a cab!"

* * *

For the next three hours, the two ate Chinese food and talked. They learned they both loved Doctor Who, had read the _Harry Potter _series twice, and, ironically enough, both hated Chinese food.

"I just suggested it 'cause it was the first thing that popped into my head," Greg admitted as he held the door open for Molly.

"And I just accepted because I thought you liked it. Sort of a 'Gift of the Magi' thing, huh?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "I remember that story. You know, part of me just wished they could cut all the crap and just tell each other what they wanted."

"To make the other happy," Molly replied. "Not exactly something you can put on a Christmas list."

"True," Lestrade conceded. "But couldn't they have found some way to say that they didn't want gifts this year? That the thing they really wanted was…" He balked a little as Molly's lips suddenly pressed against his.

"Oh, I-I'm sorry," Molly stuttered as she pulled away. "I didn't… That was stupid…"

"No! No, don't be. That was… that was… Oh, bloody hell." Greg wrapped his arms around Molly and kissed her passionately. Molly sank into his embrace. And neither of them noticed that it was still pouring down rain.

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Reviews appreciated as always!


	2. Epilogue

Bonus Epilogue

* * *

"Is that? Bloody hell! Sherlock come have a look at this!" John said as he looked out the window of 221B at the snogging pair. Sherlock glided over to the window, gave a little snort of derision, and then went back to his chair.

"Did you even see that?" John said.

"'Course. Molly and Lestrade kissing in the rain." He raised his eyebrows in a parody of interest. "Fascinating."

"Oh, come on. Are you telling me you're not at all curious as to how that happened?" John argued, gesturing out the window.

Sherlock picked up his bow and began applying resin to it. "Yep."

John shook his head and went back to looking out the window. "You're a machine, you know that, right?" he said as he watched the two happily climb into a cab.

The great detective smiled. "I can't help it," he said as he picked up his violin and tucked it under his chin. "If some things are just _painfully _obvious."

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Reviews appreciated as always!


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